


She has teeth for a reason

by Luthor



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Devil Nadia, Drabbles, F/F, Insecure Nadia, POV Second Person, reversed ending, reversed ending but like it's fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:55:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25937029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luthor/pseuds/Luthor
Summary: You would think her holy if you knew no better.
Relationships: Apprentice/Nadia (The Arcana), Nadia (The Arcana)/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 56





	1. Chapter 1

“Again.”

Your body sags defeat, but you know already she will not let you off that easily. It’s true that time moves differently here, that you step in and out of it like gaudy curtains that cling too long against your skin, but you have retained enough of your humanity that your body tires, still. Unlike Nadia, you are mortal here, and she does well to remind you.

From the mess of rumpled sheets, sweat-slick and spent, you lift your head to her – benevolent she-god that she might be, sometimes, Nadia supports your chin in charcoal fingers that burn on the edge of discomfort against your flesh. Her red-slit gaze is unblinking; you can already imagine the sting of penance, if you make her ask again.

“I’m yours.” The words slip past dry lips, a mantra that she makes you repeat again and again, for whose benefit you’re no longer certain. She could keep you at this all night. Has, before, until her insecurities were tamed back down to embers. “In body and soul, I belong to you. Only you.”

Above you, slack-jawed wonder.

You have power here, but only that which she herself bestows.

A coal-dark thumb swipes against your bottom lip, and you open your mouth for her ready; you are well learned on what she likes, by now, your intuition is tied inherently to hers. When the digit enters your mouth, you welcome it with tongue and just enough teeth, but she is not for playing. Her fingers tighten against your jaw, fist closing on your lower face, nails too long and too plenty, and tugging upward that there’s a strain in how far your neck is bent.

You make a noise like surprise, and Nadia purrs.

“That’s right, isn’t it?” Disinterested, unaffected – but you see the glint in her eye. She’s never been very good at masking her own satisfaction. “You’re mine to do with what I please. Mine to spoil. Mine to keep.” She eyes the collar around your throat, and the metal turns hot in recognition. “You serve me. You would never do anything to displease me, would you?”

Her thumb has not yet left your mouth. She does not expect an answer.

Still, you hum against the digit – suck it firmly against your tongue, if just to see the way she smiles down upon you, softly softly, eyes red as a naked star.

Her voice gentles, “very good,” and she releases your face.

Without her support, your body naturally falters. You land backwards in too many pillows, the breath knocked out of you, hands fisting in the sheets in a delayed search for purchase. Above you, paying no mind to your floundering, Nadia kneels closer. The noise her hooves make as they slide against the silken sheets sends shivers across your exposed body. She stops only once she is straddling your hips, towering over you with preternatural red-light backdrop silhouetting her from the arched windows behind.

You would think her holy if you knew no better.

The smile upon her lips is predatory. Adrenaline bleeds onto your tongue.

“ _Again_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have just finished Nadia's route and I am destroyed. I am deceased. I'm half-tempted to turn this into an entire thing of drabbles, my brain is so noisy with ideas right now.
> 
> Also have to mention that this is inspired by Mina's incredible series of drabbles [over here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/18285155/chapters/43276688), which I cannot recommend enough (but of course, I'm sure you're well familiar already, I'm so late to this party). 
> 
> Kudos/comments/etc. means the world. Come say hi on [tumblr](https://luthorao3.tumblr.com/). :)


	2. Chapter 2

The Devil’s realm feels infinite.

Each day, you wander further than the last, attempting to reach the ever-distant shore that teases you from the far end of the lake. Distance means nothing to the magical realm of the Arcana – one moment you are hours-deep into your trek, and within the next second-glance back over your shoulder, you’re back there.

At the mouth of the palace gates, as though it were following not two steps behind you.

You wonder if it is a trick of the realm itself, that the distant shoreline is nothing but a mirage on the horizon— an intricately painted backdrop to the glass tank of your new enclosure. Either this, or it is your mistress’ doing. The collar around your neck has no clasp or other noticeable method of removal. The last time she caught you fiddling with it, she produced a leash out of thin air.

No matter.

You turn back to the shoreline, and begin your pilgrimage anew.


	3. Chapter 3

You remember her, hungry.

You remember delicate hands exploiting every weakness in your outfits, slipping in beneath where your skin was warm and growing quickly hotter. Stolen minutes between disasters, where she would press you firmly against her palace wall and kiss you until you forgot impending doom. She always left you wanting – always pulled away from you before she could forget whatever business it was you were to attend, and tug you still-panting along after her.

Her kisses would drown you. Now, they send you up in flames.

Nadia’s new appetite would make you fearful, if you were not so content to be consumed. There is no task or piece of work to impede her libido, and you have eternity to learn how to keep up. You know that she expects it of you; you’re loath to let her down.

Above her, your body bends and breaks at the whim of three fingers already knuckle-deep, and they are not slowing down. She is relentless, but this is what you asked of her, this is what you plead of her, and she is never so cruel as to deny you. Encouragement finds you in the red-slit eyes that watch, hooded, from below, and the words she says so sweetly when you dare to reach too close to climax.

“You try so hard for me,” cooing, she knows you’re close to breaking. “Look how well you please yourself. I don’t imagine you can take much more, no? Look at yourself. You’re already shaking. My, how hard you fight it for me. You are doing so well, my love. Just a moment longer. I can feel how close you are, my darling, I can feel how much it hurts. Oh, I do so love to watch you come apart.”

You are not made to last.

With but a crook of her fingers, climax comes, ruinous, like a blaze through every wasted muscle, and your body falls into the waiting cushion of her breasts below. She holds you through every twitch and spasm, until your undulating hips stop shaking, and her fingers slide slick and free. Your body mourns the loss; it aches almost as much as having her still inside you, when she leaves.

“There, there,” she murmurs into sweat-slick hair, and you hide your face in the warmth of her neck. You no longer possess the strength to move, and Nadia welcomes you limp and lifeless into her bosom, combing fingers along the length of your spine. She is plush and too-hot beneath you, and every human cell within your body sings for peace. “That’s right, my love, rest now. You will need your strength if you are to repay me.” 

You whimper benediction against her skin, but her laughter is the only answer. 

She likes it when you’re too tired to lift your head.


	4. Chapter 4

You suppose that you anger her, from time to time.

She will never admit as much aloud, but she cannot always mask it.

Nadia angers the same way that she makes love – consumption in its purest form – and you are learning to taste the difference between each lick of flame. She is rough with you when you ask her to be rough, and you ask it of her often. You like to see her lose composure. You like the dull ache of her collared strangulation – the way she tugs your leash _just so_ , that any further pressure and you would suffocate completely. You like to see the panic in her eyes, even as your own lose focus.

You push her further than she is willing to go, and you know she grieves each boundary crossed, almost as much as you enjoy to watch her cross them.

Oh, she will keep you in bondage. And you make it known that you will do the same.


End file.
